Trix
by hawkstorm
Summary: Will: Ex-convict and alone... again. This story follows my favorite OC through his search for his only friend. RobinxOC. BL.
1. Chapter 1

It's exactly twelve-twenty-three a.m. at Arkham Asylum, and all that I get to do is repeatedly hit the back of my head against the wall of my ultra-white cell for days. Gods, could this straitjacket _be_ any more uncomfortable? The wall I sit against is always icy cold; my cell is next to Mr. Freeze's and all you can hear through the wall is "Nora, my sweet Nora." and, "One day I will get out of here and bring you back, my dear, beautiful, _lovely_ Nora." I swear, if you aren't insane before Arkham, you will be after. (**That should be their slogan.**)

"..._Good night, William_..." a slightly sadistic voice called to me through the opposite wall. Anarky, another teen-gone-wrong, lives on the other side of my cell, and I have the sneaky suspicion that he wants me. I gag at the thought. _He_ is crazy. (**Way to be a hypocrite, Will.**) I'm serious, the kid paid one of the security guards to take a picture of me for him. I so do not want to know what he does with it.

I thought I would stop ending up here, in this place. But, what can I say? Life is full of **trix**, and you never know when you're going to be wrongfully accused of a crime and shoved into a straitjacket... again. Luckily, it was just a little thing this time, mild assault and petty theft and whatnot. Psh'yeah, like I would give up my brand new life of good for _mild_ assault and _petty theft_. (**Now, if it was a one of those shiny yellow porches...**) I'll be out in a day or two. Good behavior and what not... Plus, the world needs me to be back out on the streets to keep an eye on the ex-cons that frequented the dirty little bar I worked at.

The Broken Bottle, ah, now there is a fine example of what Gotham has to offer the world. Cons, gangsters, mobs, (**all of who are alcoholics**) you even get an real villain every once in a while, all coming in for a drink and a place to whine about life, then proceed to pass out on the floor.

In fact, that's exactly where I was about twenty-five hours ago. Taking out the trash, that's it. Then a couple of thugs ran into me. One of them pointed a knife right at me. (**If you had a nickel for every time that happened... Well, Raven would owe you big time.**) He started screaming at me, saying something about how "all we need is a body" and blah, blah, blah.

To be honest, I did what any (**in**)sane person would have done. I mean, swiping the knife right from the guys thick, ugly hands and kind of threatening him to carve him up in a Red Raven like fashion... The point is, he threatened me first, and it's only because I'm a past offender that I'm back here.

Anyway... It's too bad I'm alone. It's much harder to resist sleep if you're not bored to _death_. (**You wish, you slippery-handed insomniac.**) I don't hate sleep. I fact, I love sleep... It's the dreams I have the problems with. The twisted memories... Those I hate.

If they weren't so vivid maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe if I didn't have to see my best friend dying, drowning in her own blood, with me standing there, not able to do anything every time I close my eyes, I could live with the nightmares. It was times like those were I thank the Gods for this straitjacket. (**Otherwise, you would claw out your eyeballs!**)

That was it, the (**second**) horrible life changing experience that made you reexamine your pitiful life. From then on it's a life of good-deed-doing for me... Even if I'm all alone, even if I've lost my best friend in the process, it's one more bad guy off the streets. And the more of these drunken, haywire madmen I can convince to turn over a new leaf is all for the better, right?... (**Wrong.**)

The door to my cell opened. "William Ethan Snyder: you're free to go."


	2. II

I sat there, on one of the remaining parts of the counter top, staring at the wreckage that the back part of the bar had become... again. It wasn't _that_ unusual, but it still bothered me just the same. It's really not that horrible. (**Tell that to the hole in the wall.**) Because of the large number of "bad guys" that come into the bar, it's not too weird to have to break up a couple of bar fights. But honestly! Who drives a truck into a wall? Thank the Gods there's insurance and that whoever's responsible for this has to pay for the repairs.

I glared as another one of the policemen observing the scene approached me. "Will, is it?" he said in a voice that clearly screamed "I wish I was anywhere else but here."

"_William_." I corrected him, a bit of an unnecessary edge tainting my otherwise monotone voice. (**A bit touchy towards the men and women of the law, aren't you?**) "And I already told the other man what happened. I was cleaning up at the bar when I looked up to see headlights. Crash, bang, boom, next thing I know I'm on the ground and I hear sirens. That's all I remember." The officer left looking satisfied enough with my little tale. I leaned back, bracing myself with my right arm, and absentmindedly considered cleaning the bloody gashes and slices along my left arm that came from the flying glass that used to be a window... Too much trouble.

It took another hour for most of the cops to leave, leaving only the Commissioner. I never moved from my place. "What happened here?" a deep voice commanded from the elongating shadows. The Commissioner jumped, quickly shooting a glance at me, while I sighed, muttering "Great, bring on the bats and the birds." Could this night be a little longer, _please_? A brusque conversation took place as I stared at the reflective patterns in a broken mirror. Then, a specific voice snapped me back into reality. "Let me talk to him." the voice said. I _love_ that voice.

Robin, The Boy Wonder, walked up to me with a serious look on his face. "Give it to me straight, Doc. I can't take the suspense" I said, still looking at the mirror. He paused, obviously confused. It didn't take him long to recover.

"I want you to tell me what really happened in here." he said. I rolled my eyes at him. (**Business first, eh?**)

"I told the old man twice already. Go ask him." I vaguely gestured to my left, ignoring the pain up my whole arm.

"Your testimony to a third of the cops was only two words long." Robin retorted, clearly exasperated with my attitude. (**You just love to mess with his head.**)

"And to another third I just gave a delicately understated hand gesture." I shrugged. "They left quicker that way." He raised an eyebrow at me. I noted that the bat and the commissioner were both closely examining the site of destruction, in particular, a small knife stuck in the neck of the truck driver, and paying zero attention to either of us. "I don't understand..." I whispered, feeling myself zone out.

"What?" Robin asked, whispering too. I looked back at him, but quickly hid my train of thought. Shaking my head, causing my bangs to fall in my eyes, I hopped off the tabletop and walked around to the sink. The water wouldn't run. Well, this sucks.

"I need to clean my arm." I said, half to myself. He quickly rushed over to me, snatching the rag that I was roughly wiping the blood off with. I gave him a quick half-glare.

"You probably have glass in your arm." he stated ever-so-matter-of factly. Taking out a pair of small tweezers from his silly little belt, he began removing out minute shards of glass out of my arm. "Why didn't you have this treated?" he questioned curtly. I tried to move my arm away, but his grip was almost bruising. My breath hitched as he wiped away the newly flowing blood. "Will..." he said quietly. He was looking at the old, healed-over scars on my arm.

"What?" I asked defiantly, taking back my arm. His gaze was painful to look at, and I raised my eyes past him to see the tall, dark Batman. There was a moment of awkward silence that I broke with a "Well, I'll see you guys again next time." (**Hopefully not too soon.**)


	3. III

I walked into the chilly night, scowling that I stormed out without grabbing my jacket first. Stomping into the alleyway, then climbing up the fire escape, I muttered curses to the night. My tiny apartment was on the floor above the bar, but due to the little bird in the bar, I preferred to climb through the window of my living room/kitchen. Wincing as I yanked the glass up and tumbling onto the beat up couch underneath it. A.M., my tabby grey cat, mewled, following behind me as I slumped off to the cramped bathroom. He jumped up to the countertop that encircled the dingy sink as I rummaged for bandages below.

What was his problem, anyway? My frown deepened as I recalled Robin's face: a vile mixture of anger, surprise, fear, and sadness. It wasn't like I was hiding them... (**Yeah, **_**sure**_** you weren't.**) And if it upset him so much then he should have minded his own business. Hissing as the hydrogen peroxide splashed onto the cuts, I wiped off the crimson mess before it could drip to the floor. "Stupid boy." I muttered, unsure if I was talking about Robin or myself.

I stared at the bundle of gauze my arm had become. The burning pain from the antiseptic was fading away, unclouding my brain and clearing the path for a train of thought. (**Unfortunately.**) My hand reflexively reached into my pocket, drawing out the shining switchblade before I had even thought about it, the razor sharp blade drawn. "Rote Rabe" read the calligraphic inscription on one side of the polished silver handle. Turning it over, I gazed at the detailed engraved image of a raven, a chip of ruby in place of an eye. I spun it effortlessly between my fingers, a trick I had mastered with a friend a long time ago.

"Where are you, Rav?" I got no answer from the empty room. A dull ache in my chest formed as I thought of my best friend, partner, and accomplice. I have my suspicions of who she's with; I hear things. And I'm certain of the prominent danger she's put herself in, but removing myself from the field of action put me out of contact with her. Making my pleas to her for peace and good useless. My ignorance and lack of known information boiled beneath my skin.

(**There's always a way of finding her.**)... There are places in this city, not particularly nice places, where one could find connections to lesser known information, the dirt on the recent happenings in Gotham, namely, police activity, the Batman, and his mile long list of enemies. I know there's a part of me that enjoys that setting... maybe too much, making me fit in with that part of town, that crowd, more than I'd like to admit. (**Heh heh heh...**)

I sighed and pocketed the knife; my arm was cut up plenty at the moment. "I suppose I should blow off some steam." I mused, tilting my head toward A.M. Tomorrow night I will hunt down some well deserved information.

And with that, I slept for once. My nightmares silent with the flicker of devious hope.


	4. IV

There's something that should be said about the level of scum that party here. The Refugee's Den was just that, though, a place for the refugees of the law to consume endless amounts of liver-destroying beverages and rub against each other to the beat of electronic pulses. (**Isn't it the best?**)

I ignored the line that filed around to the next block, striding purposefully to the bouncer at the door. I knew him well. Despite the crowd he hung around, the man preferred the usually quiet Broken Bottle and a warmed whiskey to blur the headache he got from his job.

"_William?_" his deep voice rumbled with surprise. I gave him a silent nod, my face telling him that this was business, his face saying that my outfit said otherwise. (**Some would say you're looking for attention, dressed like this.**)

I was let in without question, despite the fact that I'm still too young to legally drink. What was the point, anyway? If I actually wanted alcohol, then I could just go to my own bar. The inside of the nightclub was dominated by a large dance floor the center of the ground floor with the long bar to the back. To my immediate right and left were cold, black steel staircases leading to the grid-like top floor housing booths and tables for VIP members to sit and watch the undulating dancers below. It also held the DJ's booth, my first destination.

I made sure not to meet anyone's eyes as I causally walked to the soundproof box covered in one-way mirrors. Half of them were surprised to see me, those were the waitresses, all of whom, I could recite their names, likes, and dislikes. The rest were drug-hazed, lusty stares, checking out the way my black vinyl pants hugged dangerously low on my pale hips. (**If you even **_**think**_** of touching Will, **_**you sick son of a-**_)

Entering the small, silent room was a small relief. Jack-Mixa was spinning tonight, a 28-year-old Haitian with dreadlocks down to his butt. He had been working here for nine years and was just recently married with a daughter already on the way. "Sup, Jack." I said, leaning up against the door. Startled at my sudden appearance, he skipped a beat in his song. No one noticed.

"Don't _do_ that to me, man!" he cried, pulling down his headphones to his shoulders and turning to face me. I shrugged and smirked a small apology.

"Sorry. I came for something." I said. Once again, my expression must have communicated some sort of urgency, because Jack reached behind him to set the music to a default playlist, and sat in the leather office chair behind him. "Have you heard any news?" He looked a little nervous, and a spark of hope flashed in my stomach. "_Well?_"

"I've... heard things." he started, and I recognized his hesitation.

"You won't be targeted for anything." I assured him. "I promise. My information network spreads far and wide over Gotham. You wouldn't be who they come after." He eased a little. Good, it wasn't a lie.

"Word on the street is... that the Joker and his woman have a new girl working for them." I didn't realize that I was biting my lip until it bled. "I haven't seen her myself, but she's known to wear a lot of red... and use knives."

His words caused the spark to ignite. She's still in Gotham? She's still alive?! I was on a high. Jack looked happy, too, like he was relieved that I was excited with the news. "What are ya going to do?" he asked.

Huh. What _was_ I going to do?

(**Find her, duh.**) Find her, of course.


	5. V

Rationally, in some very small part of my brain, I realized that finding my vigilante partner would be a lot harder in reality than in my head. Plus, as a ordinary (**psychotic thief of a**) citizen, it might look suspicious if I start hanging around in places I don't belong. Milling through crowds of people over to the bar, I contemplated my options.

Becoming Trix was out of the question. Absolutely. (**Damn.**) I swore to _never_ touch that costume again.

"What'll you have?" the bartender asked as I sat down in the only stool where you could see the whole club.

"Ice water." I couldn't risk alcohol tangling my only wanted thought process. The bartender looked confused. "I'm driving home tonight."

He shrugged as he set down my glass. "Sure, but I've never seen that actually stop anyone." Sipping the freezing liquid, I gazed out into the crowd; over a hundred bodies were melded together on the dance floor. It was actually pretty cool looking, with the flashing fluorescents, if you didn't look too closely. I was suddenly distracted as a face shot into view just past the doorway, arguing with the bouncer that towered over him.

"_What the-_" I whispered, throwing down some cash for the drink and slipping out of my seat. "_Why_, for the love of the Darkness, would he come _here_?" That stupid boy is going to get himself killed. I stormed out of the club, quickly schooling my features into the indifferent mask I kept it in.

"There you are, Tom!" I cried in not so fake annoyance, remembering to throw in a false name. The pair stopped their argument to look at me. "I'm _so_ sorry about my friend." I latched my arm around the younger boy's. The bouncer's anger was exchanged for surprise.

"The kid's with you?" He asked, clearly suspicious.

"_Unfortunately._" I growled through my teeth. "I'll take him home." Quickly steering the both of us away from the noisy club, I drug the boy into an alleyway close by that I know connected to one of the nicer parts of Gotham.

Safely hidden in the shadows, I shoved the boy against the dirty brick wall and yanked the blonde wig he was wearing, revealing the messy locks of ebony underneath. "Do you honestly think that a wig will hide you here, _Little Bird_?"

Robin glared at me defiantly. It was a little cute. "_Why are you down here_?" I didn't get an answer, and the blush that was rising up his face made me remember our close proximity, with my hands on either side of his head, boxing him against the cold, hard wall. "I don't have time for this." It's true, I really don't. I just found the most exciting piece of news in, well, a _long_ time, and I didn't have a plan to act on it. And that boy is just too distracting for his own good!

I spun on my heel, turning back to the club, as the boy's voice called after me. "I followed you here, okay!" I paused, hopelessly distracted again. "I... I was worried... about you." I heaved a great sigh, turning for another time.

"You don't have to worry about me. I'm not the one in danger here. Now, _you_ showing _your_ face to this crowd could get you... hurt. _Badly_." I had stepped back to him, inches away now. "I don't want to see that happen to you." He looked surprised that I was genuine and gazed down in embarrassment, temporarily at a loss for words.

Lost in the way the streetlights and stars shone on his hair, I didn't really notice his hands on my wrists until one of his fingertips brushed over a more recent cut. I hissed, drew away, and fixed him with a hard, stern look. "Go home, _Tom_." His eyes held a glimpse of abandonment, and it broke a piece of my heart away. **How **_**dare**_** you look like her.** For a moment, I saw the little crying girl in the dark ally, waiting for a friend. "We'll talk about it later." I whispered to him. "Just… go home, _please_."

I made sure he got into a cab before I drew Rote Rabe, and sighed as I bled the hurt away.


	6. VI

It's been days since I met Boy Wonder at the club, and I hadn't heard from him since. I suppose that's a good thing; that means he's busy. But, then again, I don't want him to be _too_ busy because then he'll have a greater chance of getting hurt. Gah! I really don't know what to do.

Even worse, after days and sleepless nights of thinking and planning about what to do about Raven, I have come to a spirit crushing blank. There is _absolutely nothing_ I can do. And knowing next to nothing except for one rumor didn't help one bit, and it didn't look like I was getting any other leads soon.

On the bright side, (**only you would find one**) I'm told that the repairs to the Broken Bottle were almost half-way done. (**I suppose you've been ignoring the fact that it should have been finished by now.**) A.M. was asleep in my lap, purring loudly, as I held a weathered sketch book in my hands, my fingertips were covered in pencil lead as I perfected the finishing lines to a drawing of a pair of birds, an image that has been haunting my nightmares. Examining the result for any flaws, there was a sudden knock on my door, startling A.M. out of his sleep and leapt off of me.

"For crying out loud," I muttered, shuffling over to my door. It was noon! Who comes to see me at noon?! (**Who comes to see you at all?**) I opened the door only to freeze halfway.

Standing in the hallway was none other than, "_Little Bird?_" I asked. He looked nervous. Not in the "the cops are after me" kind of way, but the "I'm afraid the butterflies will fly out of my stomach if I open my mouth" kind of nervous. Gods, it was adorable. I vaguely gestured for him to come in, sneaking a glance at his finely tailored jeans as he passed by.(**Oooh.**) I'm sure they cost more than my entire wardrobe. As soon as I closed the door I sighed, "Although I suppose I could call you _Richard_ since you're obviously _not_ in uniform." I smirked as he glanced back at me.

"You know my name?" he asked. I shrugged back.

"Does it bother you?" He looked thoughtful for a minute. "I could always go back to calling you Tom."

There was a small silence before he smiled. "No, it's just... I prefer Dick." I considered that for a moment, then nodded. A.M. leaped on to the counter next to Dick and swiped a paw, nails extended, at him, hissing and spitting.

"_A.M._!" I cried, waving him down. He listened, jumping down to slink under the couch. "Bad cat!" He meowed back. "Yeah, you stay under there!" I looked at Dick. "Did he get you?"

"No. I'm fine. Was that your cat?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "That's Aston Martin. He usually doesn't do that." I stared at the spot under the couch where A.M.'s tail was angrily swishing back and forth.

"_Wow_..." I heard Dick say from behind me. Turning, I saw him flipping the ratty pages of my sketchbook.

"Oh, you like them?" I asked, vaguely wondering why I cared what he thought about the random drawings of my nightmares. He was looking at my latest one. A robin and a raven, locked in aerial battle, neither wining nor losing, both injured and dying. "I hate that one." I winced, recalling the haunting dream. It wasn't a hard one to interpret, and its clarity scared me. I had realized a while ago that if anyone knew the whereabouts of Raven, it would be the teen in my living room/kitchen. I was just too scared of the chance that they _had_ met, and _had_ fought each other, just as the drawing in his hands showed.

"Why? It's so beautifully done." he was in awe of that disgusting prophecy; it's clear in his voice. (**It's almost funny.**) That was another reason why I couldn't ask. If he knew who Raven **is** to me, then he wouldn't fight her, and she would kill him. But, if I didn't say anything, then I would be the only one to suffer from their conflict. A task I'll gladly take for them.

"It's... a long story." I avoided the question, but he didn't press further. He broke the following silence first.

"Hey, Will... Do you want to go have lunch with me?" I looked up, a ghost of a smile playing on my lips.

"Are you asking me out?" I questioned, Dick's face dyed a light pink. He nodded. I felt so close to smiling again. "Yeah, I would like that."


	7. VII

"_Holy hot rod._" I gasped as we stepped outside. (**Oh. Hell. Yes.**) Next to the curb was parked a sleek, sliver Lotus Evora. It felt like my legs had melted. "I-what-but-I... _These aren't even out for sale yet._" I was still a little breathless. Dick laughed at me, a sound that didn't help my sudden jelly-like state. He walked over, grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the doorway, which I realized I was still frozen by.

"Do I have to buckle you in too?" His question snapped me out of staring at the sun shining off of the glossy paint job.

"Excuse me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and stepping away from the passenger's side of the car. "I'm _so_ driving."

"What?! It's my car!... Sort of." Dick yelled back. I ran my hand across the hood, smirking back at the frustrated teen.

"Perhaps. But who has the keys?" Dick looked confused, and checked his pockets.

"Wait... What?" He looked back me as I jingled the confiscated item that I had just taken from his pocket three minutes ago. I wanted to laugh at his face as he had done to me just a bit ago, the sound wouldn't come, and it depressed my spirit. To hide my sudden mood swing, I opened the door and slid into the driver's seat.

It took all of three seconds for me to adapt to having the driver seat on the other side of the car, but, let's be honest, I can adapt to any car. (**Preferably of the foreign, sport variety.**) "Get in, Little Bird." I said rolling down the window. As he got in and buckled, I started the engine. "Is it even legal for you to drive yet?" I joked, speeding out of this part of Gotham.

"I'm sixteen." he grumbled. "Is it legal for _you_ to drive?"

... Huh. Did they take away my license? Is there some sort of rule about that? "... Touché." For a second, Dick looked worried, but then he laughed again. I sighed, losing my thoughts in the purr of the engine. "Where are we going anyway?"

"Well, if I was driving we would have been there already." I gave him an incredulous look.

"Are you saying that I'm _slow_?" I asked, and he laughed. I've quickly become addicted to that sound.

"No, I'm saying that you've been speeding around in circles." he chuckled. "I'm wondering if you just came for the car."

"Don't be ridiculous. There's going to be food, isn't there?" I made him laugh again. It felt nice. "... Well, and the company is pretty good, too." After fifteen minutes worth of directions and "accidently" getting lost, I parked in a private parking garage where Dick had to show the guard a member's identification card just to get in. I gave a low whistle as we walked onto the sidewalk. "I've never been on this side of town." I felt ridiculously conscious of the fact that my entire outfit cost about fifteen bucks as a woman walked by in a dress so expensive, it _smelled_ like money... Maybe it cost twenty... Maybe.

My nerves kept my mouth shut and my head down as Dick lead me into a twelve out of five star restaurant. He didn't even need to give his name, we were immediately seated, despite the obvious line of people waiting for a table. (**For crying out loud! Who goes out for lunch?!**) We sat in the back, in a private booth.

The waiter left with our order of drinks. I just asked for water. "So..." I started, "This seems like a really nice place." Dick's expression was worried at the nervous tone of my voice.

"You're uncomfortable." he said. It wasn't a question, so I didn't answer. "I'm sorry, I just really wanted to talk to you, and-" I interrupted him.

"Then I suppose this place is perfect." I said. He looked surprised. "Less bad guys up here, I assume." But I still felt nervous because I had the sneaky suspicion that I was the one who was going to be doing most of the talking. It was a little awkward when the waiter came back with our drinks, then leaving again, this time with whatever Dick ordered. I couldn't tell one dish from another. Only a fourth of the menu was in English. "Where do we start?"


	8. VIII

Dick played with his spoon, which I'm sure is real silver, while I twirled my butter knife, wishing it was the perfectly balanced weight of Rote Rabe. "Um- I-..." (**Why does **_**he**_** look so nervous?**) It was as if he was nervous about learning more about me. He should. But, even still, I felt the need to make this easier on him. I'm not sure why.

"What do you want to know?" I asked, rephrasing my previous question. I tried to act nonchalant about the whole thing, but it was easier said than done in this uptown eatery. I felt like I was being laughed at by the very walls just for stepping inside. When Dick stayed silent I smirked, "I'm surprised that you haven't just looked me up in the super-computer 'bad guy' files I'm sure you have."

"I thought it would be a violation of your privacy." he admitted sheepishly. I was more than a little relieved, if he had looked me up then I would have had little to no doubts that he would connect me with Raven. Something I desperately avoided every time I spoke to the partner of Batman. "How about your childhood?"

"Abandoned." I shrugged, my voice monotone. This was a topic that I had very little trouble talking about. Raven wasn't in it. "I grew up in a small, young boy's orphanage until I was... seven-ish, I think. The Rollion Place."

"What happened?" Dick asked, looking overly curious, leaning over to me from across the table.

"The Headmaster, E. Rollion, passed away... _sort of._" I said, and Dick looked worried again.

"I heard that it burned down." he whispered, so I lowered my voice as well.

"_It did._" I remember the night vividly. I remember leading the orphans outside, telling them to wait there, that I was going to fix things. I went back inside, upstairs to the Headmaster's room, were I had tied him to his bed with the same leather straps and torture devices he had used on me and the other boys. I remember him crying through the gag in his mouth as I said to him a soft, "**Good night, Headmaster.**" and threw a lit match down onto the gasoline soaked carpet, locking the door behind me. I walked back outside, the cold biting my skin through the near rags I wore, back to the younger boys. I told them to stay where they were, and that the firemen that were coming were nice people - people they could trust - then I left them, running away.

We both kept silent as our food came and the waiter left, our eyes locked. "None of the orphans were hurt." I added. I had made sure of that. "After that I lived on the street, living off of pick pocketing. I got really good."

"I'll say." Dick muttered, no doubt thinking about his lost car keys. "So, what next? I'm guessing you turned to bigger crimes."

"They weren't _that_ big." I grumbled. "But, yeah, I did go 'professional,' or whatever." I couldn't let him focus on this part of my life too much, too risky. "I spent some time in Arkham, then decided it was time for a change. I saw the light, I suppose." I couldn't think of anything more to say, but it didn't look like Little Bird was done yet.

"And when did _that_ start?" He asked, a flash of anger in his eyes, as he glanced at my sleeves slipping down my scarred forearms. I sat back against the seat, crossing my arms over my chest, my face set in a blank mask.

"That doesn't concern you." my voice was strong, and my attitude stubborn, but Dick was adamant. Plus, I had the feeling that this was what he wanted to talk about the whole time.

"You said you would talk about it." He snapped back at me. _Damn._ He was right. (**Ha ha.**)

I scowled at him, and then got up out of my seat, turning away. "Not here." Dick scrambled after me, yelling at the waiter to "put it on his tab."

I walked back out into the chill. It usually wasn't this cold during the day, but of course, I had once again stormed out without getting my jacket, this time from the snooty tuxedo-man at the door. I waited just long enough for Dick to follow me before stomping to the parking garage. The guard tried to stop me, asking for a member's ID, but I simply gave him the finger and slid past. I didn't stop till I reached the car, where I yanked the door open and got inside, just sitting in the driver's seat, waiting for Dick to get done apologizing to the security guard.

"... It started when I... _retired._" I said through clenched teeth, not wanting to settle on this topic. "It's punishment. I... I did something _horrible_..." I gripped the steering wheel so hard that the white bone of my knuckles showed through my pale skin. "And it..." I choked in a whispered voice, my forehead resting against my hands, "..._It reminds me of her_..." I was almost certain Dick didn't hear that part, but it needed to be said.

_Dee du deet. Dee du deet._ Dick's cell phone started ringing, and he hurriedly picked it up. "Yes?" I focused on my breathing and convincing myself that I loved this car too much to risk getting blood on the leather seats by cutting. "I understand... Yes. I'll be right over." I looked up as Dick put his phone away.

"What is it?" I asked him.

"The Penguin has just attacked Wayne manor."


	9. IX

I let Dick drive this time. I thought he was going to drop me off at my apartment, but apparently he felt unsure about leaving me alone. "I don't want you hurting yourself anymore." he said. It was a sweet thought, but he couldn't stop me. He can watch me all the time he wants, it won't make a difference. I didn't say anything back to him, my doubt was obvious enough anyway. I stayed silent and kept my gaze out the window the whole 42 minute drive to the huge, newly rebuilt Wayne manor. I was a little surprised at the lack of police at the site of a major robbery like this, but wrote it off as a relief.

Following Dick up to the massive double doors, I wondered if I was actually allowed in here. (**Doubt it.**) Being an ex-criminal and a diagnosed sociopath doesn't really qualify me as an incredibly trustworthy person. That's exactly what the butler thought as I walked into the mansion. I could tell. "I wasn't expecting any guests, Young Master Grayson." It was all in his tone.

"Sorry, Alfred." Dick said, and then he turned to me. "Will, can you go upstairs for a bit? I, uh, have some work to do here." I rolled my eyes, walking towards the grand staircase. I was annoyed with Dick and I wanted him to know it, but I would wait for him anyway.

Having me wander around the second floor didn't seem to ease Alfred's nerves, but any concerns I had concerning the old butler flew out of my head as I paused at an open doorway. Okay, it wasn't so much open as was the door knocked off its hinges.

It led to a long and narrow room filled with glass display cases. It was in disarray, the case on the end was smashed open, and there was glass everywhere. I carefully wandered towards the end of the room slowly, taking time to look at each artifact in the room first. "..._wait_..." I whispered, stopping at one case in the corner of the room. It wasn't the object in the case that interested me; it was the wall next to the stand. Wedged deep inside was a small switchblade.

I _know_ that switchblade, and now I've forgotten how to breathe. _Raven_. She was _here_. She was here _today_! A couple of _hours_ ago!_** Dammit! It's torture chasing that girl!**_ I pulled the weapon out of wooden surface, nervously drawing then retracting the blade. What I going to do now? It was definitely too late to chase her. (**Yeah, and **_**that**_** wouldn't look suspicious.**) But... Why would the Joker need to steal some old ancient artifact? It never struck me as his style. I walked back out of the room, fingers still fidgeting with the small knife, being extra careful not to step on any broken glass.

The butler wasn't in the hallway when I walked out, which I was grateful for. I have the sneaky suspicion that he doesn't like me. It took me longer than I expected to find a room that I could recognize its purpose. It was a bathroom, if you could call it that. My entire apartment could fit in there. I kept the door ajar because all I was doing was sitting on the marble counter top.

I couldn't take my eyes off of the switchblade. It was one of her small, simple ones, probably kept in her boot. Not one that she would particularly miss. In fact, I doubt she's realized it's gone yet. The thought of her face finally discovering her lost possession made me half-smile, but it was weak, and the expression felt foreign on my face. I don't even think I _can_ smile anymore, forget laughing. _Ugh_, what kind of a person am I? (**A person that shouldn't be left alone with his own thoughts, obviously.**) How could I even _try_ to have any sort of relationship with _Dick Grayson_? I'm a thief, a traitor to the only person who ever truly cared about me, and an empty shell of a human left with nothing but their sins and regrets. (**Will, stop that.**) Of course Raven wouldn't come with me, someone so weak and pitiful, when she had the Joker to follow. I wouldn't come with me either.

The memory of Raven's face, so pale and thin from months of being locked in a dirty cell, contorted into pure anguish as she screamed at me to leave, that I wasn't Trix anymore. I remembered Raven lunging at my face, neck, whatever she could injure or maim as the guards, the same ones that had ridiculed, beat, and spit on me when I was on the other side of the bars, now rushed to protect me... from the only person I wanted to protect... _want_ to protect. My heart began clenching painfully in my chest.

She probably never realized that she actually did manage to hurt me. Pushing up the right sleeve of my shirt, I ran the cool handle of the switchblade along a jagged scar that ran diagonally from the inside of my elbow to about three inches down my forearm. The first cut.

Growling, I kicked the door shut, locked it, and pocketed Raven's weapon only to take out my own. Dick's words never entered my mind as I pressed the sharp blade to the skin of my arm. Bright crimson flowed from the cut, so contrasting from the white of my skin that it was dizzying to look at. The vicious pain made me bite my lip to drown out the intensity. It was the greatest release from my worst enemy: my own thoughts. I didn't realize until just now that I was crying, and that I was no longer sitting on the counter, but on the floor. I just couldn't seem to get a hold of myself until there was a knock on the door.

"Will?"... It was Dick.


	10. X

"_Will?!_" Dick's frantic voice echoed a thousand times in my head, drowning out the sound of his cursing as he tried to turn the locked doorknob, then resorted to knocking the door open. I didn't move to help him, I didn't move at all, even after he did get the door open. "Will!" I turned my face away from him, vainly hiding my tears. (**As if the desprate sobs weren't enough of a clue already.**)

Dick's hand wrapped around mine, the one still gripping Rote Rabe, and pried it open, throwing the knife out of my reach. "_Don't_..." I finally managed to choke out. "You'll get blood on you." I explained, meeting his eyes. His face was worried, for the most part, and sad. I unfolded my arm to show him, shamefully, the fresh cut that was still bleeding. I couldn't even find the dignity to look him in the eye. There was a long silence before either of us spoke.

"... Come here." he whispered and pulled me up so that we were both standing. I idly noticed that he was a few inches shorter than me, about the same height as Raven, as my gasps and sobs died down. Dick had a wet wash cloth in his hand and a bottle of iodine in the other, both of which he had found behind one of the mirrors. I gave a questioning glance to the brown liquid. I didn't often use antiseptic on my cuts, and even if I did, I'd never use iodine. It burns like hellfire, I don't care if it is powerful. I winced as he wiped the blood away with the wash cloth, and tried to pull away when he poured the harsh cleansing solution onto a new cloth, but he had one hand in a bruising vice around my wrist.

"Um, shouldn't you dilute it fir- _Aah!_" I yelped, burying my face in Dick's shoulder as he blotted the cut with the vile solution. "You did that on purpose." I hissed.

"Perhaps if you stopped cutting, I could use something nicer." Dick replied calmly. I gave a weak grimace to the space between Dick's neck and shoulder, but then whimpered as another wave of stinging pain spiked up my arm. "..._ I don't like to hurt you._" Dick whispered as he gingerly wrapped my arm in pristine white gauze. The pain in his voice gripped my heart, and I slowly raised my head so that we were looking directly at each other, the tips of our noses no more than three inches apart.

"_I don't like to hurt you either._" I breathed back, and with that I closed the space between us, roughly pressing my mouth to his. It took me by surprise that the teen responded so quickly, forcing his fit, muscular body to mold to mine and pressing me against the sink counter. However, with neither of us truly expecting the kiss, we quickly found ourselves lacking air, forcing our mouths apart to take in the precious oxygen. Dick's face was heavily blushed with red while I prided myself in the fact that my cheeks only carried a dusting of pink. One of my hands had found a place buried deep in Dick's black hair, and yes, it was as soft as it looked, with the other hand looped around to his shoulder blade. Both of Dick's hands were pressed against my chest. I smirked down at him, taking in his heavy breaths. "**Ready**?"

"Wha-?!" I cut him off as I stepped forward, forcing him to step backwards, knocking Dick back against the wall. I gently pushed my body closer, closing in, and kissed him slowly. I moved the hand that I had on his back leisurely down his side, eliciting a delightful little moan, to hook two fingers in his side belt loop. Dick feverously moved his tongue against mine, completely lost in the whole affair, his hands sliding up my shirt just to get contact with more skin. His lips started to travel down to my neck when-

_Beep beep bo beep bo beep_, came my now least favorite noise from somewhere near us. Dick groaned, drawing away from me, and taking a sleek, black pager from his pocket. As soon as he saw the message, Dick dropped his hands from the inside of my shirt. I stepped back, my expression schooled. "I-"

"-have to go." I finished for him. Dick looked up at me, almost embarrassed.

"Will you be here when I come back?" he asked.

"If you want me to." I shrugged, looking away to gaze at the neat bandages on my forearm. "But come back unharmed for me, okay?"

Dick nodded, but I knew it was a promise he could never keep, and my insides tightened as I watched his back retreat from the bathroom, fearing the worst.

"Raven, please..." I whispered to the room, empty again. Please don't hurt him. (**Please come home.**)


	11. XI

I furiously paced back and forth in the bedroom I was oh-so-politely shown to, passing the contemporary and modern pieces of furniture for the thousandth time. "That was stupid." I growled to myself, itching at the bandage on my arm, the cut still gently throbbing. "_He's sixteen_. I'm such an idiot." I felt a part of me disagree. A part that, for my own appearance of sanity, I had learned to repress to near silence, but he was becoming louder and louder within the most recent week or so. I found that I didn't even mind that much. After all, **Trix** always knows what to do.

"**You just kissed him.**" the voice said reasonably... But sometimes, a voice of reason isn't what I want.

"Sure, we only kissed, but it could lead to so much more than that." I cried out to the empty room. "Do I really want to get into a serious relationship with the person hunting down my only friend?"

"**Does he mean something to you?**" Trix questioned calmly.

"I'll be putting the both of them in even more danger!" I ignored Trix's question. "I don't _deserve_ someone like him, **Trix**..." I hung my head, cradling my face in my hands. "I just wanted to keep Raven safe." I whispered through my teeth. "Now look what I've done."

"**It's not illegal to care for more than one person.**" Trix added.

"Ha!" I gave a short bark of laughter, but it was a hollow, empty sound. "Interesting choice of words. Like I... Like _we_ haven't done anything illegal before." I mumbled. I have had really only two other conversations with **Trix** before. It always gave me spitting headaches. It would eventually hurt to the point where I either get extremely dizzy or collapse. Neither of which are very pleasant. Already I could feel the fog of a migraine on the edges of my mind. "Is there any chance?"

"**How do you expect me to know? I only know as much as you do.**" Trix's voice had an undertone of exasperation. "**We know she's alive.**" I nodded in silence. "**We know she's working for the Joker.**" Again, I nodded. "**We suspect that she was here and that she stole something... We can also assume that she is whom Robin is chasing after right about... now.**" I grimaced at the last part, flashes of nightmares flooding my mind.

"You make it sound kind of hopeless." I sighed. "Or is that your way of telling me there's nothing I can do?"

"**Depends. But you need to answer my question first.**" His stern demand made me pause, and for a second a disorienting wave of dizziness made me sway. "**Does Dick mean something to you?**"

The question was harder than I thought, and yet, not hard at all. It's true, Dick's presence in my life gave me a feeling of... comfort, and his company quickly became something I craved. When I saw him in trouble at the club just a few nights ago, didn't I abandon my search for Raven to ensure his safety? Wasn't he the one for which I feared for in a fight against my old partner? "... Yes." I finally said."... I care for him."

"**Then I believe that you should tell him. Everything.**" I gaped at the nothingness of my own subconscious until a beating pain from my temples snapped me out of it.

"You want me to do _what_?" I could hardly believe him-myself-whatever! "Tell him? _Have you lost your mind_?!"

"**...**"

"Don't answer that." I huffed, taking a seat on the edge of the low bed in the corner of the room, burying my face in my hands again. My head felt as if it was slowly ripping open. "... Tell him everything..." I repeated. The notion sounded so backwards to my instincts. "Wouldn't it be easier to lie and run away with one of Wayne's pretty cars?" I whimpered.

"**Is that what you want?**" Trix asked me. The tone in his voice sounded like what I always imagined a mother talking to her child would sound.

"... No," I grumbled, "at least, everything except the whole car thing."

... Well, Trix always knows what to do.

I jolted upright when a knock sounded on the door. My brain screamed in protest at the sudden movement. "What?" I called out.

"Young Master Grayson wishes to inform you that he has returned." Alfred's voice flowed from the hallway. "And that he will see you after he... freshens up." I waited until I could no longer hear the butler's footsteps before standing. Yeah right, like I was going to sit here and wait. If I was going to tell Dick anything, it would be now while I have the nerve.

"**I'll all work out.**" Trix lied through his teeth before fading back to the recesses of my mind.

I wish.


	12. XII

As it turns out, Dick was in the same bathroom that I locked myself in earlier. For a solid five minutes I watched him from the doorway (**Stalker.**) as he inspected his shoulder, the skin red and raw. "I suppose that's close enough to unharmed." I shrugged, walking in. His head snapped up at my entrance. For a superhero, he's not very observant sometimes.

"Uh, yeah." He said distractedly. (**What's his problem?**) Upon closer observation, I could see it was a burn on his shoulder. Not a particularly bad one, but painful none the less. Grabbing a plush wash cloth from the counter and running it under cool water, I bit my lip, remembering what I came here to do.

"I have something to tell you…" I started. He looked… unsurprised? Expectant? It made me hesitate.

"Is it about this?" In his outstretched hand he held Rote Rabe. _Curses_! Had I left it in here? My silence must have been an obvious "yes," but I couldn't find words at the moment. "I never really looked at it closely before. It's beautiful." I could tell this was going somewhere.

"It was a gift." I said quietly, standing next to Dick, alternating between dabbing his burn with the cold towel, and rinsing the cloth under freezing water. What is it about tending to someone's injuries that made people so vulnerable? "I've had it for years."

"… _Rote Rabe_… German for Red Raven." Dick whispered. Okay, so maybe he did have _some_ observational skills. I took a deep breath, putting down the wash cloth, and moved to stand in front of the teen, but refused to meet his eyes as I slowly spoke.

"Red Raven was my partner… back then." It sounded so lame and shallow because she's so much more than that. "We found each other as children on the street. The both of us abandoned and beaten... We only stole to live, at first. Then we got older, smarter, and violent." I took a chance and glanced up; Dick was trying to keep cool. "Money, cars, whatever we felt like, we took, then laughed about it." (**It **_**was**_** kind of funny at the time.**) "They were the best years of my life.

"I was never alone. I finally had a _family_. I was _loved_ for once…" My hands ached from clenching them around the hem of my shirt as I spoke. "It was nice, you know… to have a reason to wake up, to live. She was more than a friend, she was… _is_ like a sister to me." It was getting harder to talk; knowing the end of the story had to come. I didn't realize I was shaking until Dick put a hand on my arm.

"Will, I'm-"

"Wait." I interrupted him, shaking my head. "I need to tell you…" After another deep breath, I continued. "Our crimes caught up with us eventually, and we were finally arrested for trespassing." (**Heh, trespassing.**) "We were sent to Arkham Asylum." I was speaking through my teeth now. "They _separated_ us. I didn't see her for so long… " Echoes of psychotic laughter floated to the surface of my memories. "It was the last straw, and I broke in that hellhole. They fucking _broke_ me, and all that I could think about was my best friend, tortured and isolated in a rotten cell, when I had promised to protect her…" Okay, deep breath. Deep breath. "… But I got through it and I saw that it was my crimes and sins that put me through that nightmare." My voice was barely louder than a whisper. Not that it mattered because Dick had pulled me so close that I was towering over him, my cheek resting on the top of his head.

"That was the hardest decision I had ever made. More than once I've regretted what it took to go through with it." It was getting harder to focus, partially because I just didn't want to, and I'm sure that some of the blame belonged to the half-clothed boy with his arms around me. "I tried to convince her to come with me, to start over because I wanted her to be safe… She screamed I wasn't the same person, wasn't her **Trix** anymore." I stood up straight and tilted Dick's face toward mine so I could look him straight in the eyes. "But she's right, Dick. I'm _not_ really **Trix** anymore. When I… broke, my personality fractured in two: me and him. I _am_ **Trix**, but I'm not." I searched Dick's eyes for something. Anger. Fear. _Anything_. But the only thing I saw was a warm concern. "I'm still looking for her. I want you to know that now." As I said this I took Rote Rabe out of his hand and replaced it with Raven's switchblade. Finally, I got a reaction from the teen. "She was here, during the break in. I don't know what you were saying about the Penguin earlier, but perhaps he's not the only one after whatever thing you had."

Dick looked thoughtful for a little bit, and then surprised me by setting down the knife. "Most people that break in Arkham don't fix themselves." He whispered. "You did the right thing, Will." My name barely left his lips before he kissed me.

It was a soft and gentle gesture, almost tentative, like he _was_ afraid. I lightly moved my lips against his, encouraging him to take control and finish what he started. It worked, and that little push his direction sent _me_ slamming against the wall this time. The kiss turned furiously passionate, our slippery tongues siding against each other in a heated dance.

Dick pulled away first, brushing his wet lips against my jaw to my ear. "Well," I gasped, "that was… interesting." (**Indeed.**) Dick just groaned and nibbled on my earring. "Wasn't exactly the reaction I was expecting, but-" Any thought process I had was shot out the window when the dark-haired teen began sucking my neck. I knotted my hands in his hair, pulling the ebony strands, silently begging him to never stop.

But, of course, that reasonable side of me took control, and gently pushed Dick off me, creating barely half a foot of space between us. "Dick…" I breathed, "Will you be my family?" I mentally backhanded myself when my voice shook, but the question was already out there, waiting for its answer.

Dick looked me straight in the eyes, and his voice came out strong and certain. "I love you, Will. I'll be your family if you want me to be."

As soon as he said that I quickly looked down to blink away tears. When I looked back up again, I was smiling. Really smiling. "_I love you, too._" The feeling swelled in my heart, and I pulled Dick's face to mine and kissed him fully on the lips.

For the next half hour we made out, only parting when air was necessary, and we pushed those limits, too. It was during one of those breaks that I interrupted the silence. "This is the sexiest bathroom I have ever been in." Dick laughed breathlessly from his position kissing my bare chest. Somehow during the event we wound up on the floor, I lost my shirt, and Dick ended up on top of me. "It's absolutely my favorite room."

"You haven't even seen my bedroom yet." Dick smirked impishly. I arched an eyebrow in mock surprise.

"You pervert." I ran my hands through his hair, and Dick turned his head to kiss my palm. I watched as he continued up my wrist, kissing each scar until he reached the crook of my elbow, where he began nibbling and sucking at the thin flesh. "That tickles…" I whined. Dick only sucked harder. "Oh, get _off_." I smirked, pushing Dick onto the floor next to me.

"… You're eyes are bluer than usual." Dick mused, tilting his head to the side. I shrugged back, propping myself up on my elbow.

"You're one to talk." I poked his temple. "I've never seen eyes as blue as yours. Robin's egg blue, how ironic." I gave a small sigh and got up off the floor, helping Dick up after me. Again, we found ourselves pressed close to each other, and we shared a long kiss before I pulled away again, this time turning in the direction to leave. "You should take a cold shower." I said to him over my shoulder. "It'll help with your burn."

"Fifth door on your right." Dick said back. I turned with a confused look. "My bedroom." He replied, answering my silent question. I nodded, with a fair warning.

"Watch out, Little Bird. Don't dangle something shiny because what Trix wants, Trix gets, and he won't always play fair to get it. Remember that."


	13. XIII

Dick had fallen asleep hours ago, slumbering through the day, but I didn't dare move away from his unconscious grip on my arm, and instead took advantage of the super deluxe cable package that was hooked up to the wide, flat screen, LCD TV nailed to the opposite wall. Dick began to stir.

"I probably should go back home sometime." I mumbled noncommittally from my seat, lounging against the headboard of Dick's bed as said owner was curled against my side. Dick murmured something, obviously disagreeing, but incoherent. "I've stayed here all night _and_ most of the day. What will the butler think?" Dick turned and made a face at me.

"I'm uncomfortable with thinking about what Alfred thinks about us." He said awake now and picking up the remote, mindlessly flipping through the hundreds of channels on his TV.

"He hates me, you know." I added.

"No he doesn't." Dick paused for a while on a cooking show before continuing on. "He just met you."

"He had '_the look_,' the '_he's too good for you_' look.(**The 'hurt him, and a very large flying mammal will be after you' look**.) I managed to physically use air quotes even with my arm now around Dick's shoulders.

"You're being paranoid."

"No, you're being naïve... Wait, stop!" I snatched the remote from Dick's hand and turned up the volume to the point where the newscaster's voice rang in my ear.

"- custody for questioning. The police have been keeping the case secret for a while, but as most of the city knows by now, the GP headquarters was blown up last night." I sat up, trying to get as close to TV as possible. "Luckily, they were in the middle of moving the headquarters to another location, and only a few handfuls of officers were in the building. A total of seven casualties occurred.

"Commissioner Gordon released this morning that that they are indeed working on the Red Raven/Joker case." I stopped breathing as a pixilated image of Raven and another girl about Raven's age came on the screen. "They suspect that the police building blowing up was due to this other young green-haired girl seen fleeing from the scene of the crime. Just what is happening in Gotham? Why are the police being targeted? Are we in for another rain of clown terror?"

I turned the TV off, and the silence following was numbing. I slowly relaxed from my painfully straight sitting position, and Dick gingerly touched my arm. "That's where you were, wasn't it?" I whispered, and then looked up to the teen next to me. "You fought her…" He looked unsure of what to say in fear of upsetting me, but I needed him to tell me what happened.

"She was trying to blow up the police station, and had already set the bombs when I got there. I fought both her and the green haired girl." He said, gesturing to the blank TV. "She hit her head, and when the bombs detonated, I tried to get her out of there." I couldn't breathe as the word "_tried_" escaped his lips, and Dick panicked. "No, she still made it out." He assured me, and I let in a shaky breath. "Her partner, Asteria, took her."

As that information sunk in, I found that with every breath I took in, a sort of rage filled me. "Partner?" I twitched. "She has a new partner!" I was standing on my knees, accusing the empty space in front of me. Dick took hold of my wrists and tried to pull me down, but I wouldn't hear of it, and he only achieved in falling backwards and towing me down so that I was yelling at him, my hands bracing my body up from their places on the mattress by the sides of Dick's head. (**Or is **_**that**_** what he wanted?**) "What the hell is that all about? She goes out and replaces me, and after all we've been through."

"You're jealous?" Dick asked, tilting his head to the side. That stupid boy's trying to distract me.

"Yes, yes I am." I snarled. "Plus, she's certainly not coming back if she' with a _partner_ and The Joker. A family."

"I don't think that you can consider The Joker a father figure." Dick argued.

"Why not?" The idea wasn't too weird to me. If a pair of crazed orphaned thieves could be a family, then a crime lord like The Joker would be a perfect father. "He's respected, powerful, and wicked smart. If Raven found a place in his upper ranks, she'll be protected by him."

"That's insane." Dick looked somewhere between confused, disgusted, and afraid that I was defending The Joker. I pursed my lips at him, scowling.

"I don't _like_ it; she's still not safe. Being associated with him will make her a target to…" My scowled deepened and I sat back, resting between Dick's knees. Slowly, pieces of information began to fit together. "I have to find her before… Oh my god." Realization hit me like a freight train. "The bombing was a distraction." I jumped off the bed and tore through the desk by the spotless window, snatching paper and pencil. I began furiously scribbling, almost tearing through the thin sheet.

"What are you doing?" Dick came up behind me and tried to decipher my mess of a chart.

"What was stolen?" I asked, concentrating.

"An ancient Azura Puzzle piece, one of three, theoretically." Dick answered. He was perceptibly still confused. "There was one piece here, and I don't know where the two others are; they were really only rumored to exist." I added that bit of information in an angry scrawl across the top of the page. "Together, they're involved in a doomsday ritual, but they need some sort of a key to work."

"Well, that makes sense. If he had all of the pieces, why wouldn't the ritual have happened already? So, where's the key?" I paused for the answer, the now blunt point of the pencil hovering over a dark triangle at the center of my sketch.

"No one really knows what the key is, much less where."

I hoped that the disgusted noise I made wasn't taken offensively. "An ancient ritual with an ancient key… They keep old things in… museums?" I mused, tapping the eraser on the desktop in a frantic pace. Looking behind me, I noticed that Dick had mysteriously disappeared, but I brushed it off in an attempt to figure out what the clues of this realization meant. "Three pieces…" I mumbled. "and The Joker wants them, but he sent Raven…" I mentally ran over what I saw at the scene of the break in, and sketched a few images. Wait, if Raven came here to steal something, then why did she have to use a knife?

There was a _fight_. That's it! Someone else was there, but who was it? I quickly jotted a list down, muttering each name out loud. "Not a mob boss," (**They wouldn't be interested in rituals**) "and no mercenaries or scientists either." (**That takes out Bane, Deadshot, Hugo Strange, The Mad Hatter…**) "Perhaps a violent entrepreneur… Someone who wants the pieces, not for himself, but to sell to the highest bidder… Dick said that _Penguin_ had attacked the mansion."

I snatched the paper off the table, now in a hurry without really understanding why. In a rare moment of clear-headedness, I remembered to get my jacket this time as I rushed out of the mansion, through a wide garden, and into a large second building. As I walked in, I almost cried.

The glittering supercars that filled the room made this a temporary heaven, until I remembered what I was doing. Scanning the room for keys, I sighed as I found none. Not letting that stop me, I approached a black Porsche 997 GT2, and tried not to think about it too hard as I jimmied the door and cracked the wheel base open. Carefully, I hotwired the car to roaring life and wasted no time to speed away from Wayne Manor.


	14. XIV

Slowly but surely, my plan solidified as I tore down the streets of Gotham to my grungy apartment, rushing upstairs to gather some supplies. I nearly jumped out of my skin as something in my jacket pocket vibrated.

It was a phone. Rather, a very sleek and high tech cellular phone that most certainly did not belong to me. But I picked it up anyway after a few frustrating seconds of not understanding _how_ to answer the dumb thing. "Yes?" I snapped into small device.

"Thank God, you picked up." Dick's voice rung from the speaker, loud and rushed. "Will, listen to me, Penguin's been captured. We're headed to the museum now. Someone's reported a break in." I was already taking the stairs by two before he finished saying "museum." "I want you to stay at Wayne manor. Do you hear me?"

"Uh huh." I mumbled as I started up the Porsche again. "Don't worry about me." I hung up the phone and threw it on to the passenger seat, slamming the gas pedal down. The car thrust forward, the sheer inertia of the take off left my stomach behind. However, a familiar sort of calm indifference and sly confidence filled me and, despite the danger I knew I was speeding towards. It was a welcome comfort, and I pushed the car's singing engine harder, sliding easily through the traffic that had diminished just as the sun had, replaced with a threateningly darkening twilight over the clearing streets.

I slowed down when I turned on to the museum's street, silently halting in front of its impressive columns and arches. Despite my certainty, something very close to ominous dread wrenched my insides. I slipped out, sneaking through the broken doors, hurrying when I heard the sounds of a struggle.

My heart would clench and seize painfully every time I passed a bloody raven carved into the walls, but I didn't pause to check on the numerous bodies that littered the floors. I already knew they were dead. I twisted around to the side of a wooden podium, gasping as I heard a blood curdling scream. "Shit!" I ran in the direction the shattering noise came from, only to find myself frozen.

My lungs felt like they were shriveling up in my chest. Pinned to the floor was a battered Robin, held down by…

"_Raven._" I choked. The name was barely a breath.

"Aw, the poor bird with his broken wing." Raven laughed cruelly, pressing a blade, her favorite switchblade, to Robin's throat. "Looks like you're having a hard time flying. I guess this was our last dance. Nighty-night, bird boy." My body reacted faster than my mind when I saw the blade flash as it was drawn back for a final strike. I had grabbed the thin wrist before I my brain could register, but when I touched the hot skin, it lit my mind into overdrive. I was noticing so many things and yet only one thing: Raven. Mesmerizing every detail of her existence, her being, was so much the sole operation of my attention that I didn't hear her yell at me, didn't see the fog of crazed bloodlust in her eyes. I pulled her up into my chest, holding her close.

"Raven…" I whispered into her flame red hair. Slowly, she lifted her head to look up at me. Her lip was bleeding, but I recognized the concentration that drew her eyebrows together as she studied my face. Eventually, her eyes cleared.

"…Will?"

Her tiny voice echoed in my heart as I smiled, lifting a shaking hand to run it through her hair. "My god, I've missed you, Ray." I said, hardly believing that she was here. "It's just been so long, too long." Raven looked like she was in shock; her pale face was absolutely still.

Whatever elation I had, however, dissipated as soon as my brain registered the battered state Robin was in. I slid away from Raven and kneeled down to the boy's side. His left arm was swelled and bent at a gruesomely awkward angle and there was blood oozing down from his hairline. Gently, I wrapped one arm around his shoulders and the other around his waist, offering my support as he raised himself completely off the hard marble floor. I looked back at the still shocked girl not even five feet away. I knew that if I wanted to get any words in, it would have to be now.

"Raven," I started, "you don't have to do this." I hated how much it sounded like I was begging, but dammit if that's what it would take, I would get down on my knees. "I know that this is the path you chose, but that isn't how it has to be now. I can't let you live like this. You're not safe. _Please_, come with me, _let_ me help you."

I was cut off as the sound of gunfire and yelling sounded from around the hallway. I recognized Harley Quinn as she slid in the doorway, shouting "_Raven_! There you are! We-" she interrupted herself as she spotted Robin and I. The gun in her hand rose. I kept calm and pushed Robin behind me.

"Wait!" Raven cried out, stepping in front of us. I could see that her nervous habit of chewing her lip ring was still intact as she glanced back to us, then at Harley.

"Raven, what's wrong? Is that a friend?" Harley questioned, not dropping her direct aim at my head. I happily returned her glare. Raven violently shook her head.

"What? No! No, I was going to kill them, that's all. I really want to, please let me have them Harley?" I could tell that Raven was lying, but it seemed to satisfy the clown's wife. She lowered then gun.

"Just be quick. We're bailing." With a final nod, we were left alone.

Robin was now standing on his own even though one of my arms stayed firmly on his waist, and his head had stopped bleeding. "I told you to stay away." He whispered to me, almost angry. I half smiled at him, shifting so that I was no longer in front.

"I can't believe you thought that would work." I whispered back, leaning over to just barely kiss Robin's cheek. I shot straight up at the tell tale sound of a switch blade. The shining knife shook as Raven gripped it in her hand, a smile twisting across her face.

"Oh," she giggled, taking a wobbly step forward, "I get it now… This isn't real. None of it is real." Fear sunk my heart. "This has happened before. You're not real." Her body swayed as her eyes began rolling in her head.

I moved away from Robin, trying to reason with the girl before she snapped. "Rav, it's me. Calm down, I'm real, see?" I held my hands to her, but she sidestepped, drawing another blade from the inside of her boot.

"No no no no no. You're not real. You… You're just a figment of my imagination." Her head tilted to the side, her smile disappearing. "Leave me alone. I don't want to ever see you again."

"Come on, Raven! Harley saw me! I'm really here. It's _really_ me."

"_No!_"

I wanted to cry. Her rejection ripped at me as if her words were physical blows. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that all of this happened to you. _Please_, let me help-"

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Her scream shocked me to the point of reflexive delay, and I had little preparation as she barreled headlong into me. I heard Robin call out to me, rushing over to pull the snarling girl off, but as soon as he had her, she fought him off again. I jumped up and grabbed her wrists, pulling them behind her, locking her in place.

Unfortunately, in my own fear of hurting her, my grip was not strong and she took advantage of my insecurity, driving her switchblades into me. The double explosion of ripping pain was enough to make some black out, but I grit my teeth, swallowing my apprehension and tightened my grip. She continued to fight, digging the knives further in. In my watery sight, I saw Robin take a cautious step toward us.

"No!" I groaned, wincing as Raven kept screaming. "Don't touch her. This is between us. _Please_, stay away Dick." He listened, but I could see it was killing him to stand back. Little by little, the screaming and struggling seemed to drain her energy, and she relinquished the death grips on her precious knives. I gasped, trying to find enough breath to speak. "Trust me, Raven." I said, leaning over her. "I beg you. I'm real. I'm here, in flesh. Can't you see me bleeding? Don't you feel my hands around yours?"

There was one little breath, and then Raven's head slumped down. That was all I could do. I let her go, falling back on my knees.


	15. XV

Being down on your knees automatically gives you a sense of defeat, no matter what the situation. It must be psychological. At least, that's what I tried to think about as I ripped the impeding switchblades from my leg and ribcage. The steadily growing dark stains that leaked from the wounds started to spill on the floor. "R-Rav-" I started to groan, but an ear piercing shriek stopped me.

Raven whipped around with her enraged battle cry, bringing down a weapon that I knew wasn't hers; the brightly painted knife just a breath from my exposed neck. I tilted my head to the side, my own pained gasps were nothing compared to the desperate, angry huffs coming from my partner. Her whole body shook terribly.

I didn't say anything; I didn't want to say anything. If killing me was what she wanted, then what could I say? I wasn't scared just… sad. As if at half speed, the small blade slipped from Raven's trembling hand to clatter on the floor, its fall echoed in the silence between the crackling of damaged electrics.

My chest tightened, strangling my lungs at the same torturously slow rate that streams of crystal tears ran down Raven's cheeks. Abruptly, her tiny body crashed into mine, her arms clutching to my back in her own hopeless attempts to smother her whimpering sobs in my shoulder. It took my breath away and I didn't want it back.

Eventually, comprehensible words started forming from Raven's fraught weeping. "It's _you_… it's r-really you....Will. _Will_..." The little whisper grew into a real voice, and soon the crying girl couldn't stop herself from pouring her hear out.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Those words sounded so miserably sad to me, despite that I had just spoken them myself. "I just can't go on without you. I can't live like this. I can't believe I've made it this far. You know how much pain and suffering you put me through? I felt like my heart had been ripped from my chest, and since then I've never felt the same. I've missed you more than _anything_; every day I was hoping you would change your mind and come back to me…" I didn't dare interrupt her, only nodded silently as she continued. "I never forgot the days we spent together; that time you taught me how to drive, our first bank robbery, when I made you wear a dress whenever I was feeling down...none of that means anything now.

"You were right when you chose your path. I'm sorry I was too blind to see it. I wanted to be with you forever, but I had been so _changed_...it was like we didn't even speak the same language anymore, like I never actually knew you. I felt so betrayed, and it's all my fault. I turned you into a monster. You were able to see the light again, but I was swallowed by the dark. There was no saving me. There _IS_ no saving me."

No… I don't believe you…

"Will, please, forgive me. I've killed so many people. _So many_....and I didn't even give a _fuck_ about them. I didn't care that they had families and friends waiting for them. I forgot what it was like to be cared about, or how to care about others, and that turned me into a murdering machine. There is nothing I can do to change what I've done; there is no going back for me. It's all over, don't you see? I don't belong in this shitty world, I never have."

No no no no _no_…

"I'm so happy for you, Will. _Look_ at you. You have a life, a boyfriend, people there to support you. I will never have that. The Joker and Harley have made this last year of mine worthwhile. They adopted me. Will, they gave me something. Something to me was better than nothing, no matter how horrible that something was in the end. You can't hurt them. Please, don't let them get hurt. I know what they do is wrong, but… but… I _love_ them. I got my perfect life back. I would do anything for them, Will. _Anything_. I owe them everything.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. Emotionally and physically. I would never purposely do that to you. The voices, they scream inside my head. They won't shut up, Will. They never leave me alone. I'm not even sure I have control over myself anymore. I don't want to be Red Raven. I want to be just Raven. I want a life, job, boyfriend… you. I want _you_ back, Will. You're the most amazing brother a girl like me could have ever asked for. By blood or not, you will always be my brother… I love you Will."

Now was my chance, my turn to attempt to speak my heart and soul to the person who made me hold on to my miserable, pathetic life. How the hell did she expect me to do that when I couldn't stop crying? I clenched my teeth together and forced my lungs to cooperate. "You stupid brat." I whispered, holding her as close as I possibly could. "How could you say something so idiotic? That's just like you…

"Why do you assume that you were the only tortured one? I had to leave the only family I ever had in a rotting cell and somehow carry on the dismal existence that I tried to pass off as a life. Sure, my life is better now… good even…" The electricity flashed and sparked, but I couldn't find it in my heart to care enough to take more than vague notice. "But _shit_, Raven! If it weren't for the fact that someone else looked at my wretched self and saw something worth saving, a miracle in itself, I wouldn't have lasted a week without you. And it was entirely _my_ fault, no manner what _you_ say because I don't believe it. I _left_ you there, you _should_ feel betrayed! I would've let you claw me to death in the middle of Arkham. Sometimes I wish you did… But that doesn't fucking matter anymore. I've learned that you don't need change your past to belong in the world.

"Every night I think about what it was like back then – it's still so _tempting_ to go back – I remember the adrenaline, the freedom, and the _thrill_ of what we did. It was the first time I had ever felt anything so close to _alive_. But then… I remember the winter nights, when we had to take shelter in abandoned warehouses and factories. I would watch you sleep, curled up on my lap, shivering even though you were wearing my jacket, and I would think about how your life must have been with your family. Warm, protected by four walls and parents and a real brother that could actually take care of you. I spent those long nights wishing, praying, that one day I could give that to you, that safety. That we could somehow make a life out of our broken ones. And I think we came close sometimes…

"But you can't tell me now that I deserve a second life more than you. I've spit on humanity just as must as you have; even as I sit here I'm being mean and selfish. _I_ want you to stay. _I_ want you to be safe. _I want my sister back_. Your past won't matter anymore, you can live in the present now… _I_ think that you belong in this world, Raven… Isn't that enough anymore?


	16. XVI

This couldn't be real. Could I possibly have everything I asked for? I held onto Raven's trembling body as if my life depended on it, as if she would disappear like a cruel dream. I muffled my moaning tears in her dirty hair, a task that became increasingly difficult as the pain in my chest became crippling. It was centered around the most bizarre sensation of my left lung shriveling in my ribs while blood continued to pump out of my body at an erratic pace.

A hand softly fell on my shoulder, and I leaned into its pull as Robin hurriedly warned me. "Will, we have to get out. The fire is spreading rapidly and there's no way we can stop it now." I looked back at him, my attention finally pulled away from all things immediate to take in the room in which I was bleeding all over. Flames, red-orange and hot, were consuming the walls at an alarming rate. How could I have not noticed?

Of course, now the fire was all I could see. It filled my vision with the burning light and I was too awake to the smoke that filled the air. An alarm blared from somewhere among the high ceiling, echoing in the flaming hallways. I blinked as Raven stood, suddenly realizing the situation we were in and the irritatingly evident fact that I couldn't stand on my own.

Both Robin and Raven had to pull me to as much of an upright position as I could manage with a hole in my thigh. "Well, we can't get out the way we came." Raven said, scanning the room for a possible exit. Wait, what? What's going on? Why am I so confused? Oh, blood loss… "Any ideas?"

Thoughts rolled dizzyingly around in my head. "We…" I shook my head, almost losing my sentence in the blurry pain. "We have to push our way through the fire."

Raven turned on me, her grip around my waist tightening as I swayed. "Are you mad? There's no way! The fire is way too intense!"

"Will's right. If we stay here, we're dead anyways." Robin held me just as close, agreeing. "We have no choice." Raven snarled in response, her eyes flashing almost gold in the fire.

"Zip it, bird-boy." She snapped. "Just because you're dating my forever best friend and we're helping each other escape from a burning building, doesn't mean I'm on your side."

The heat felt like it was boiling against the raw skin of my wounds, and I was only growing more confused as to why they were just standing here arguing when we should be escaping. Debris began falling from the crumbling ceiling, cutting off the next angry retort. "We have to get out now!" I yelled, frustrated and completely against the thought of gaining my family just to lose them in a damn fire. "Raven, please, grab that fire extinguisher and make us a path to the rooftop quickly! I'm… I'm alright, I can walk… a little." I saw her hesitate, and I understood, but I knew she wouldn't be able to carry me by herself. Even with a broken arm, Robin was still the stronger. "Now Ray!"

I stumbled as she rushed to the glass case holding the extinguisher, but Robin still held on. "We have to get you out of here." He said to me, his eyes taking in just how much blood I was losing. My vision blurred a little as I shook my head, correcting him.

"No, you and Raven have to-"

"Don't be stupid." Robin interrupted, almost growling at me, pulling me along as Raven ran back, red canister in hand. I tried as best I could to keep up, only worrying Robin more. "Move faster! We have to get out before the extinguisher goes empty!"

"I'm going as fast as I can, so shut it, you tights-wearing-"

I gasped as I raised my voice as high as it would go. "Both of you stop it right now! We have to work together to get out which is the most important thing at this moment. If you haven't noticed, our lives are hanging in the balance!"

Together, we fought through the collapsing hallways. I gripped onto Robin's shoulder, urging him to hurry. I didn't know how much longer I could stay conscience for; I had to know that we would survive. Slowly, the spray of white foam from the extinguisher sputtered and died, causing Raven to snarl and bash the closest door down, pulling Robin and I in just as the fire reached out after us, grappling, before falling back. I took wheezing breath, relishing the slightly cooler air of this room, only to start coughing up the blood and ash that lined what was left of my lungs.

As I struggled to stay on my feet, I felt Robin's body tense and heard Raven's pained gasp. "S-sir?" Fighting off the foggy haze that was glazing my eyes, I tried to comprehend what I was seeing. The Batman, lip torn and breathing heavy was struggling to hold on to the broken body of the Joker. Raven's body quivered. "_What the fuck did you do to him_?!" I wanted to reach out to her, to comfort her.

Batman's eyes glanced from Raven to Robin, and he looked relieved to see his partner alive. "Robin! Are you alright?"

I could feel my body get heavier as the sidekick in question nodded. "I… I'm fine. Will's hurt. Raven-"

"He's bleeding… everywhere… What – How?" The little girl took a small step forward, and then another and another until she was standing right in front of the caped crusader, looking up to his face. "You… killed him?"

I tried to stay focused on individual words, but they blurred, sounding farther and farther away. My attention only snapped back when I saw a flash of red bolt out of the room. "No!" I groaned, uselessly trying to pull away. "Where is she going? Don't leave!"

Robin pulled me back, practically dragging me over and sitting me against a wall. "Shh…" he whispered, holding me still as I wearily shook my head. "She's coming back. She's going to find us a way out. It's okay." I blinked back what I think were tears. Robin started ripping strips of fabric from his cape. His face was what I tried to concentrate on to ignore the pain that was brought to the forefront of my mind now that I wasn't moving, wasn't with Raven, but even Robin looked close to tears himself.

"That bad?" I whispered, and he took a deep breath.

"There's a lot of blood." Working quickly, he tied the ribbons around my leg then moved to my chest. My eyes rolled shut as he tended to me, the pain doubling as fabric scraped against the deep gashes and the tears spilled over. "Will!" Robin shouted, and my sight returned through half open eyes. "Stay with me, _please_." I coughed as he tightened the tourniquets, my head falling forward.

"I'll try…" I choked, closing my eyes again, unable to resist them any longer. Suddenly, a hand was on my face. Its small, delicate fingers I had long since memorized; they felt so warm against my cheek. I pressed against the touch, finding the strength to hold the hand there and look at the sad face it belonged to.

"Will…" Raven whispered, burying her face in my neck, her other hand clutching my hair. The little voice was so sad, it made my heart sink. What was going on? What had happened? I again felt the urge to reach out to her, to make her fears go away. She pulled back and kissed my cheek before looking at me with a pitiful little smile. "Hi, Will. How are you doing, partner?"

"Raven," I couldn't help the feeling that she was going to do something bad. That I was supposed to hold on to her with all the strength I had. "Don't leave. _I'm sorry._" At first, she didn't respond, her face was hard to read through my vision's haze, but her amber eyes were clear: She was going to do something. Something that meant the end. More streams of hot tears coursed down my face. I tried to keep her hand in mine, but she easily let go, softly petting my head with that same miserable smile. I tried to speak, but my lungs had barely the power to keep breathing.

"Blood related or not, you're my brother, Will." She spoke in a soothing voice, as if she was lulling me to sleep. "We've been through the good times, and bad. Always stuck together… I love you." For a timeless moment, we stayed like that.

… Then she left me…

Frozen, I felt frozen in the middle of this burning hell. The only things that continued to move were the tears. Gradually, the spell cracked, and my breath quickened. I bit back the scream of pain and bout of faintness as I pushed myself off the floor, strength blossoming from the agony that ripped at my soul. "Raven." I moaned through my teeth, stumbling forward a few feet towards the burning door through which she disappeared. Robin rushed forward as I almost collapsed, but I kept forcing air into my body, finding the spirit to fight. "Raven!"

"Stop, Will!" Robin pushed against me, easily overpowering me. I wouldn't listen. I _couldn't_ listen. "If you keep this up, you'll die!"

"She can't leave me!" I cried, reaching out to the devouring flames. "Raven! _Raven_!" I pushed against Robin's confining hold, sobbing furiously through wheezing gasps. "She said she wanted to stay with me… Sh-she said…" Robin's arm shifted into something like an embrace as I cried. "R-ray… I love you too."

Blackness consumed me as somewhere, floorboards cracked, submitting to the flames.


	17. XVII

For a week I was kept in the hospital. At least, I was told it was a week. I'm not quite sure myself, as I was heavily sedated the entire time. Dick was there when they released me, which was probably for the best… I hate doctors.

I looked like hell, though. Despite all the blood transfusions, my skin still lacked color, with the exception of the ugly red patches of burns that were scattered across my body, stinging with every movement. The worst of all, the deep knife wounds in my leg and side, were gruesomely sewn shut. They had managed to re-inflate my lung which had in fact collapsed, but the long incisions were going to leave a pair of jagged scars. Constant reminders… lovely.

I stared, unseeing, at my hands as they sat limply in my lap. I could feel every fiber of the white gauze that was wrapped tight over the stitched injuries that lied just beneath the new suit that Dick had bought for me to wear today.

"Are you sure you're ready to leave?" Dick questioned as I stood with some difficulty from the thin mattress that I had slept on for the past seven days. I looked up into his worried eyes before nodding in my assertion. He wanted me to stay, thought I wasn't healed enough, but my quick glance stopped him from any attempts at persuasion. I couldn't take one more day in this accursed white room knowing that _she_ should be here too… and that she wasn't.

"I don't want to stay." I replied, emotion gone from my voice. My hand reached for his, the one not restricted by a thick cast, fingers intertwining. He gave a careful smile at my little action, relieved that my vocal deadpan was just a mask.

He led me out of the room, down the hallways, and through the glass doors with an odd mixture of urgency and supreme caution. As soon as I saw the black car, driver holding the door, I knew where we were going. The memorial service was this afternoon; I had seen it announced on the TV. I squeezed his hand, pressing my lips together when they threatened to tremble. Dick reciprocated, guiding me into the backseat. The drive was silent, neither of us wanted to talk.

I kept my head down when we arrived in the park, not pausing for the crowds of people that had converged for the service. "This way." Dick whispered, once again taking the lead. Every step filled me with dread, turning this tragedy, one that I had hoped was only another nightmare, into reality. As we moved closer and closer to the fresh graves, my heart broke a little bit more. Before I was ready, the slab of polished marble was at my feet.

Raven Bolik

1991-2008

The beautiful raven etched into the smooth surface, its ebony feathers shining, gazed up at the engraved name. "She's really gone isn't she?" I asked, the words meant for no one in particular. I took a shaky breath, my lungs filling with the smell of flowers and fresh dirt. "You left before I could say goodbye…" I said to the stone raven. "Why couldn't you stay?" Dick's hand once again wound around mine in silent support. "I wasn't strong enough to save you again, and I'm sorry."

My other hand reached into my pocket, fingers brushing against cold metal. "You better be happy wherever you are, you owe me that much at least." I drew out the little object, looking down at it with tears in my eyes. Letting my hand slip from Dick's, I knelt down in front of the tombstone. My heart clenched painfully as I leaned over, my forehead resting on the chilled stone. "… And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor… Shall be lifted – nevermore." I stood up slowly, moving back to Dick's side who once again reached for my hand.

Together, we left the grave. I glanced back to see the sun emerging from behind the only cloud and Rote Rabe's silver raven shining below its stone counterpart.


End file.
